


test drive

by myriadus



Category: The Creatures | Cow Chop RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Awkward Boners, Begging, Fluff and Smut, Handcuffs, Kink Negotiation, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Polyamory, Safe Sane and Consensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 06:37:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13805550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myriadus/pseuds/myriadus
Summary: So, okay, Trevor likes being handcuffed apparently. Time to test that out.





	test drive

**Author's Note:**

> ???? ao3 published this without any summary or notes??? what in the hell???
> 
> anyway, uh. enjoy my depravity, written as fill for anon prompt who wanted trevor popping awkward boners and then it spiraled. come have fun over at my [tumblr](http://myriadus.tumblr.com)

Trevor can attribute pretty much every problem he has with his sex drive to this stupid goddamn channel.

“We need a _hostage,_ ” James is saying when Trevor takes off his headphones, the last Wrong Side of Youtube episode finally done. Aleks is leaning against the fold-out table, arms crossed and stupid hat on backwards, and he’s watching James wave his arms around a bit as he explains the situation. “That’s the whole point of the fuckin’ video, man! How are we supposed to do a stupid skit about interrogating a _hostage_ when we don’t have a _hostage?_ ”

“We could use the fuckin’ dummy girlfriend or whatever,” Aleks offers, sounding like he hasn’t really convinced himself this would be a good idea, either. “I dunno. Could be kinda funny if it just doesn’t talk or answer or move or anything.”

Trevor starts counting.

“Yeah, maybe, I don’t know.” James has his hands up and clasped at the crown of his head, fingers laced around his hair tie. “God. Maybe. That doesn’t seem up to our _standards,_ though.”

Aleks shrugs.

“We could use Trevor,” he says, nodding his head at him, and Trevor internally sighs. Seven seconds. Just a little bit longer than he was expecting, to be entirely honest. He has just enough time to pretend like he’s paying attention to his screen when James shouts his name out loud. With no other way to respond he just looks over, full-force hooded puppy dog eyes and mildly interested expression, sells it as well as he can when James pops his head around one of his monitors.

“Oh, me?” he asks innocently, batting his eyelashes, and James wrinkles his nose at him.

“Shut up, you fuckin’ weirdo. We need you to be a hostage.” He sounds like he’s already made up his mind, which is pretty much a signature James Thing To Do, so Trevor’s not surprised about that. What he _is_ surprised about is the fact that James is telling him now, instead of just, like, springing it on him the day of the shoot. It’s a bit of a welcome change, so he’s willing to at least give it the benefit of the doubt.

“I dunno, man, I think Aleks’ idea is funnier,” he says, shrugging a little bit. “Why does it have to be me?”

“Because you’ve got the sad eyes,” James replies immediately, and Trevor internally damns the same puppy eyes that he’d used only moments before. “And, like, the whole - “ he gestures, “ - pathetic thing going for you. No offense. But it’ll totally work in a video.”

Trevor doesn’t exactly have a response to that, because even if it does sting the tiniest bit it’s not like they haven’t used the _pathetic thing_ in videos before, so he basically just has to roll with it. He sighs, holds onto the drivers on either side of his headphones as he swivels around in his chair and looks at James with the most exasperated expression that he can muster before he says, “fine, whatever, dude.”

James claps his hands just once in a victory move before he’s gone again, and Trevor’s left with the distinct impression that he’s probably just made some sort of huge mistake. It’s not like it hasn’t happened before; James has a nasty habit of promising one thing in a video and then doing the complete opposite. Trevor… honestly can’t help but wonder what exactly constitutes ‘hostage’ in terms of one of their videos, since last time they pulled a hostage situation in a video it ended up with them dressing Aleks up in a fucking gas mask and calling him a Nazi. God only knows what they’re going to do to Trevor.

In any event, it still takes about another week or two for the shoot, which is more than enough time for Trevor to forget that he’d agreed to it in the first place. That is, until they’re setting up for it and Aleks tosses a pair of handcuffs in Trevor’s direction. He catches them with a startled, gentle yelp, almost drops them on the floor.

“Yo, make sure these are soft enough for your fuckin’ sensitive skin,” Aleks says, sounding bored, and Trevor has enough time to realize that he’s got a pair of hot pink fuzzy handcuffs in his hands before he hurls them across the room as fast as he can. He can hear James shriek in shock, but he doesn’t really fucking care.

“Dude, what the fuck,” he snaps as he tosses them, not so much a shout but rather a startled mutter, stepping back instantly.

“Jesus Christ,” James says from near the garage door, where the handcuffs had hit with a loud bang. “What in the goddamn hell is your problem?”

“I’m not wearing fuckin’ sex handcuffs!”

“It was Brett’s stupid fucking idea!” James yells back, and tosses them back like they’re a softball; Trevor dances out of the way of them, barely managing to avoid them hitting him on the side. He keeps his arms up protectively, and even if he’s laughing he’s still wildly pissed off. “Because you’re so goddamn delicate or whatever, Jesus! It’ll be funny! Stop being so overdramatic!”

Trevor kicks at the handcuffs, and they clink as they slide towards Asher, who immediately dances away from them too. He’s already got the camera strap looped around his neck, and it seemed like he was doing some final focuses on the lenses, but all he says is, “dude, don’t kick those at me. Just - wear them, man. Come on. It’ll be funny.”

“Fuck you, Asher, you fuckin’ wear them! Probably got fuckin’ come stains or whatever -”

“They’re fresh out of the package, Trev. Calm down.” Brett’s got on his stupid army costume like the rest of them as he steps out of his office, fixing one of the cuffs of his sleeves and sounding kind of bored. He manages to make even a cheap costume look good, which is a goddamn criminal offense. “It’ll take like fifteen minutes. It’s a stupid, funny little gag. You can manage.”

“Without throwin’ ‘em at my goddamn head,” James mutters, still sounding a little bit pissed off. Trevor can’t help but glare at him and then try to dodge out of the way when Aleks picks them up and tries to chase him with them in his hand. They’re the worst kind of stereotyped porno-cuffs he’s ever seen, a flashy hot pink, gaudy as fuck, probably going to be a nightmare to color properly. He’s not editing this goddamn video.

“Dude, what the fuck,” he complains, and it definitely comes out more like whine as he dodges Aleks trying to snap them on one wrist. The little bastard. “This is so fucking stupid. Don’t make me do this, dude!”

“Fifteen minutes,” Brett promises, like that’s any kind of compensation, but he’s using that Tone that means that Brett gets what Brett wants and he’s going to be impossible to argue with. James just has a shit-eating grin on his face, and Aleks is still holding the handcuffs, and Trevor honestly hates all of them with a violent, fitful passion. When they get him to sit in the chair he does it with all the floppy-limbed dead weight he can muster, makes it very clear that this is a tantrum and that it is one of the many acquiescent decisions he has given this fucking company. God, he fucking hates them.

“Do we need a safeword?” James asks while Aleks, beaming ear to ear, takes Trevor’s wrists and cuffs them, one at a time. He’s oddly gentle about it, which sticks out to him enough to take notice. Aleks secures them until they’re snug, and, well, Trevor’s willing to admit that at least Brett had been right about one thing - the faux fur makes it just a little bit more comfortable.

“I’m gonna fuck you in the ass, how about that for a safeword?” Trevor grumbles angrily, testing the cuffs first and then his shoulders. They’re going to be sore as hell if he stays this way, but the cuffs themselves are secure. It makes him feel… odd, a bit. Like he knows he’s not going anywhere, and that sets some sort of anxiety filter off in his chest that doesn’t actually feel all that bad.

James smirks at him.

“Don’t threaten _me_ with a good time, Trevor.”

“Fuck _off,_ James.”

And, okay, he’s really expecting the shoot to go without a hitch. They’ve done stupider shit, and they’ve _definitely_ done shit that ought to trigger his dumb twenty-year-old libido a lot quicker than this, but - listen, he can’t be the one who gets the blame put on him for this one. Even if it was in the script, even if he _knew_ it was coming, it’s still far too much of a shock when Brett says his line and then brings one boot down hard on the chair between Trevor’s legs.

He yelps, spreads them as quickly as he can to spare his poor dick, and - he doesn’t have a foot thing, he doesn’t, but Brett hits a bit too close to home and suddenly Trevor’s face feels like it’s on _fire._ He’s sitting there, handcuffed and legs spread, with a boot far too close to his crotch and a hair trigger sex drive at the best of times, in front of God and all his friends and coworkers, not to mention a camera, and he picks that exact moment to pop a boner.

Thankfully with the way his legs are spread it’s not _immediately_ obvious, but he must have _some_ kind of expression on his face because everyone’s quiet for a second before he remembers he has a line. Trevor’s still young enough to remember the old struggle of hiding your chub during a high school presentation, so he immediately starts imagining naked grandmas and sends Asher pleading “we’re roommates, understand my struggle, dude, save me,” eyes until Asher swings the camera towards James instead.

He might’ve managed to escape James’ notice, since James is across the warehouse for the scene. He _might’ve_ gotten lucky with Aleks, whose view could’ve been obstructed by the solid mass of muscle in front of him.

But there’s no stopping Brett, whose lips part in curiosity as his eyes dart down. There’s a moment of sheer silence, the air thick and heavy between the two of them, and when he looks up and makes eye contact, he just _grins._

Trevor’s dead. At the tender age of twenty, he’s fucking dead.

“No,” he mouths, begs with his eyes, but Brett just wiggles his brow for a second or two before he continues the scene, and Trevor immediately crosses his legs and starts trying to figure out which religion to convert to to spare him whatever’s coming his way. Only through the sweet, merciful grace of a benevolent god is he going to make it out of this alive.

They do finish the shoot, though it takes a lot longer than fifteen minutes, and Trevor spends the entire time thinking of the most unsavory possible things to kill his boner. He has no idea if Aleks or James have noticed yet, that he keeps squirming in his seat and saying his lines in a bit too tight of a voice, but Brett’s got an amused edge now that Trevor knows is going to get him fucked until he can’t see straight.

That would be fine on a normal day, probably, but this is a new thing for Trevor entirely, and it’s hard enough that Brett’s figured it out but the second that James and Aleks do, they’re going to want to exploit it. He’s not going to survive it when they find out, and Brett’s undoubtedly going to be the one to tell them. He’s counting his last days on this earth as a totally normal guy in a totally normal polyamorous relationship, until they all decide to come after this weakness and ruin his goddamn life.

“Aleks?” Brett asks, when they’re done, and Aleks perks his head a little from where he’d been reviewing the footage with Asher on the viewscreen. Trevor closes his eyes and breathes. “Can you come here for a second?”

He can already tell that James is going to throw a fit when he finds out that Aleks is the one that gets to be in on it first, but Trevor also knows that either way, his life is going to shit from here on out. He’s about to die, and it’s all thanks to hot pink, fuzzy handcuffs. He absolutely should’ve seen this coming.

Brett has the key in one hand and he leans forward just as Aleks walks over, looking curious and confused at the same time. Brett’s big and warm and unfortunately he’s got that sort of sweaty smell from a post skit that really isn’t helping Trevor’s boner any.

Sweat’s supposed to smell gross, for fuck’s sake. God. Trevor absolutely hates his life.

Still, Brett’s gentle when he takes one wrist in his hands and carefully locks one cuff, then the other, rubs away any soreness in his shoulders from having been cuffed for too long. From next to him, Aleks looks on curiously, but it only takes Brett pulling away again for his eyes to slide down and settle between Trevor’s legs. The denim of his jeans is… it’s not doing great things for his cock, and Trevor’s trying very hard not to wiggle and try to get friction from it because then he’ll expose himself to everyone else. Aleks sees him, though, sees his boner, and his eyes go wide.

“Oh,” he says softly, and Trevor has enough time to think that’s real unusual for Aleks when an evil, wicked little grin starts to spread across his face. Nevermind, then, Trevor thinks a bit bitterly. “Oh, so _that’s_ what’s going on.”

“Fuck off,” Trevor says immediately, even as he lets Brett slowly roll his arms forward.

“Yeah, I kind of get the feeling it’s not _fuck off_ you’re looking for,” Aleks says a bit snidely, still smirking, and Trevor glares at him. He doesn’t have any marks on his wrists, thanks to the fuzzy fake fur, but he still rubs at them as James finishes something with Asher and the post roll and then wanders over, too.

“The fuck, is there some party I wasn’t invited to?” he asks, sounding a bit insulted.

Trevor has enough time to feel his stomach swooping before Aleks says quietly, if only to spare the more private parts of this weird thing the four of them have going on, “Trev likes being handcuffed.”

Well, that’s it then.

James looks between Aleks and Trevor, eyebrows going up as he takes in the words before he shares some kind of private glance with Brett. Brett just nods, and that seems to be all the response that James needs because he just - fuck, he breaks out into a huge grin and looks down at Trevor again. He looks like Christmas came ten months early.

“You serious?” he asks, sounding gleeful. “Oh, man, you’re actually fucking serious.”

“It fucking - it happens, okay!” Trevor snaps as quietly as he can, cupping between his legs while the other three carefully arrange themselves in some kind of practiced dance so that he’s at least covered from the rest of the warehouse. His face is burning up from humiliation and - man, that ought not to make his arousal worse, but it really does. It settles heavy and thick between his legs, makes one leg twitch hard. “I can’t control what my dick does, dude!”

One strong hand comes down onto his shoulder and pats a couple of times as Brett says, “don’t worry, Trev, we remember what it was like to be young and virile.”

“And when bein’ handcuffed could get you a full blown chubby,” James adds, with that shit-eating grin.

Trevor glowers at him.

“This is something we should probably talk about later,” Brett muses thoughtfully, scratching at his beard a little like he does when he’s thinking hard. “We could have a lot of fun with that.”

“Hello?” Trevor says as loudly as he can without attracting the attention of everyone else in the warehouse. He’s still holding his legs tightly together, dick pulsing a little. “I’m right here?”

“Oh yeah. I could always help you with your problem,” Aleks says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, and James groans.

“Oh my _god_ , you fuckin’ slut - “

“Shut the fuck up, James, I’m being a fuckin’ good boyfriend, alright?”

“Ass-kissing _cocksucker,_ more like - “

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Trevor says over them, standing up awkwardly. Even just that motion rubs his dick up against the inseam of his jeans and makes him have to close his eyes for a second as the jolt of arousal makes him a bit dizzy. He just has to jerk off real quick and then he can - get back to work, while whatever this shit is goes away as fast as possible.

Aleks and James are still bickering when he manages to waddle away, but he can definitely feel Brett’s eyes on the back of his head. He makes it all the way to the private bathroom and triple-checks to make sure the door’s locked before he sighs. There’s still a bunch of shit stored in here, and he’s having uncomfortable flashbacks to Amazon that are definitely going to make it harder to just - get rid of this, but whatever. Fuck it.

It’s a good sigh when he unzips his jeans, all that pressure released and the cold air hitting the warm skin of his dick. He’s not particularly a big fan of jerking off at work if only because those three are going to know exactly what he’s doing in here and everyone else is going to figure it out if he doesn’t hurry up, but beggars can’t be choosers. He pictures some good favorites from good times in bed and sighs out through his nose when he comes.

As far as bathroom orgasms go it’s nothing mindblowing, more like a shower jerk-off session than anything else, and he sniffs and zips up his pants again. His cheeks are a little flushed when he looks in the mirror, and some of his hair’s falling into his eyes, but it’s… not a bad look, overall. He feels debauched, maybe. Huh. Well, whatever. He washes his hands and opens the door, feeling a little better.

“So,” Brett says curiously, still in his costume and waiting there for him - Trevor narrowly avoids shrieking in shock. “Now that you’ve got that taken care of, what’s say you and I have a quick chat?”

“I would literally rather do anything else,” Trevor says, trying to duck around him, but Brett just puts up one huge arm across the doorway, and Trevor considers the merits of throwing himself underneath Brett’s arm and running to his car and just never coming back.

“Just a quick chat,” Brett repeats calmly, friendly even. It immediately fills Trevor with dread. “It’s going to take a little bit of subtlety here, which Frick and Frack over there unfortunately don’t understand the concept of - “

“Hey, so, remember that time you broke down a door?”

“ - so I’m just going to ask one question, and then I’ll get out of your way.”

Trevor huffs hard enough that the stray pieces of hair flutter out of his eyes a little, and he crosses his arms as an answer. Brett gives him a winning little smile but doesn’t move his own, instead cocks his head at Trevor and looks him up and down.

“Is that something you’d want to explore with all of us, or just one?” he asks, like he’s asking what Trevor would want for dinner, and Trevor can feel his cheeks going a little darker. It’s a simple enough question, and it’s asked in such a way that makes Trevor feel… a little less anticipation than he might if it were being asked right before they dove in. Brett has a good track record of those things, which puts Trevor at ease; Brett likes to ask and double-check when they do things out of the usual, and usually it forces Trevor, and really all of them, to consider what they’d like to do instead of just making themselves do things they wouldn’t be uncomfortable with.

And, well, now that Trevor does think about it, he’d much rather explore it with just one. It’s not that he doesn’t trust the three of them implicitly, it’s - quite the opposite, really. If he’s going to be _exposed_ like that, he’d… he’d rather just have one person to fall back on, one person who can immediately cut the reins if it goes farther than Trevor is ready for.

“I guess… I guess just one,” Trevor says after a bit of deliberation, scratches at the back of his head. “I dunno. I’m new to this, dude. I didn’t even know I was into being handcuffed or whatever. I guess it would make me feel better if one person were there, yeah.”

Brett nods, pursing his lips in thought.

“Any preference towards one particular person?”

“Uh.” Trevor thinks, closing his eyes. Yeah, out of the three of them he’d probably trust Brett the most with it, if they were going to experiment. He trusts James and Aleks implicitly too, of course, and he’d definitely want to try it with them in the future if it turned out he liked it, but. Brett would probably have the most experience, at the very least, and that’s comforting on more than one level. “I mean… I guess you? Probably? I’d feel safest with you, I think.”

Brett nods, looking pleased.

“Noted,” he says, and claps Trevor’s shoulder. “Good talk, bud. You can go back to work now.”

Trevor gets the feeling this is far from over, and he swallows hard before making his way back to his desk. Aleks and James are still muttering quickly under their breath about something Trevor’s not going to stick his nose in, and when he sits down hard Asher peeks his head over their monitors.

“You alright, dude?” he asks, sounding concerned. “You rushed out of there real quick. You’ve still got your costume on.”

Trevor rubs at his eyes, reaches down to where he had thrown his regular clothes on top of his backpack after he’d gotten changed. He still has to change back, but the thought of going back into the bathroom again just to be ambushed by someone else is a little less than tempting.

“I dunno, man,” he mutters past his hands. “I seriously don’t fuckin’ know.”

Asher just looks at him with his eyebrows pinched together for a moment before he shrugs. Trevor knows that if he needed it, Asher would be more than willing to provide support, but right now he just wants to mull about in his own thoughts and figure out what it is exactly he wants.

It hadn’t… felt bad to be handcuffed, honestly. Maybe that’s the part that weirds him out the most.

He sighs and gathers up all his clothes, changes as quickly as he can in the bathroom but there’s never no disturbance this time around. When he pokes his head out, Aleks and James are both at their desks, headphones on, and when he peeks his head around the corner, Brett’s back in his office. All three of them smile a little at him, but go back to their work, and he sits down slowly in his chair.

Somehow, all that’s more daunting than everything else, but nothing happens for the rest of the day.

Trevor gets the distinct impression that he is absolutely Fucked.

It takes about three days for that feeling to be validated, and in that time Trevor’s more or less forgotten about it. Things have gone on as normally as they can given their profession, with all of them going back to their respective homes instead of sleeping over - it’s a work thing, if nothing else. They still spend time with each other outside of the warehouse, but sleeping over is usually reserved for the weekend.

He’s a bit surprised, then, when Aleks comes up from behind him while he’s finishing up the episode of Amazon he was editing and kisses him on the cheek. It’s a sweet little thing that’s actually devoid of any sort of scheming, and it gets Trevor to actually take his headphones off and look over at him.

“Um. Yes?”

“Nothin’,” Aleks says, and ruffles up his hair. “Just saying goodbye. Brett wanted you to himself tonight, so James and I are going on a date or something.”

“Or something,” Trevor repeats, deadpan and not at all surprised, ignoring the Brett part if only because it twists his stomach pleasantly. Aleks shrugs at him.

“It’s James’ turn to pick and fuck if I know what he wants to do. Anyway, yeah, see you tomorrow.” He gives Trevor another peck on the cheek, warm and cheerful, and Trevor blinks at him a couple of times. “Love you, Trev.”

“Uh. Yeah. Yeah! Love you, too,” Trevor says, startled, and watches as Aleks hitches his bag up and walks off towards the exit.

That’s weird enough, but then after about fifteen minutes he hears James finishing up, too, sighing loudly and with extreme satisfaction as he goes about getting ready to leave. Trevor keeps his eyes on his screen mostly because he’s still got a bit more to do before the edit’s finished entirely, and then he has to set it to render and fuck knows how long that’s going to take. That’s why he’s a bit surprised when James stops by his desk too, crouches down and presses a kiss to the top of his head.

“Bye, don’t work too hard tonight, ‘kay?”

“I’m almost done,” Trevor replies, nonplussed. James just grins at him and kisses the top of his head again, one hand threaded into Trevor’s hair to pull him close. He’s not as outwardly affectionate as Aleks is, and rarely says _I love you_ as much, but Trevor never takes it personally. Still, this is unusually tactile for James, and Trevor swallows against the heat in his cheeks. It feels nice.

“I’ll see you later!” James calls over his shoulder as he leaves, and Trevor’s left alone in the warehouse with only Brett in his office for company. He slips his headphones back on and gets back to work, still a little bit pink in the face. By the time the video’s almost done the color’s gone down but the warm fuzzy feeling remains, and he’s still got a little smile on his face when he looks up and sees Brett closing his office door shut behind him.

“Hi,” he says as soon as he’s by Trevor’s desk, sitting on the edge. “What’s got you all smiling for?”

“I dunno,” Trevor replies, “bunch of stuff. Aleks said I’m coming home with you tonight?”

“Ohhh yeah.” Brett’s hand is warm when he reaches out and lifts Trevor’s chin so that he can press a little kiss to his lips. “Finish up so we can get the fuck out of here.”

That’s incentive enough; Trevor finishes up the edits and runs it through real quick to make sure it all flows together and then sets it to start rendering. Brett’s taken up the chair behind him, moving in little half-circles with his toes while he fucks around on his phone, but he looks up as soon as Trevor’s all done and then he’s grinning. They lock up shop and Trevor clambers into Brett’s car, knows that he can come get his in the morning.

It’s a nice date night. Trevor feels warm and secure with his belly full of good food and Brett’s nose pressed against his cheek while Trevor does the dishes as a thanks for the cooking. He misses Aleks and James, misses when it’s the four of them but he likes these nights where they break off into pairs, too, makes him feel a little more paid attention to. He’s not like Aleks and James, doesn’t thrive off attention from lovers, but every once in a while makes him feel good, too.

“So,” Brett says once they’re settled; the movie’s run into the credits but neither of them have paid much attention to the last half hour. Brett’s a damn good kisser, and Trevor likes the way his beard scratches against the soft skin of his jawline, how his hands feel trailing up his neck into his hair and then back down to press shivering little touches up and down Trevor’s sides. He likes how it feels to have a slow roll of Brett’s hips into his, how the arousal starts as a small, flickering little flame that jolts every time he can feel Brett’s cock through his sweats. He likes how even though he’s much taller, Brett can still make him feel small just with all the damn muscle, can hover over Trevor and make him feel contained but not trapped. “I had a little plan for you.”

Trevor hums happily, contentedly, presses another kiss to Brett’s lips as an answer. Brett kisses him back, trails a few more down his neck before he comes back up and then says into his mouth, “would you still want to try the handcuffs?”

It ought to make him freeze, but Trevor’s hips twitch just once in response.

“Oh,” he says after a moment, fingertips bumping off Brett’s hat so that he can pet at his hair. They’ve scooched down the couch enough that Trevor’s on his back, one long leg bent at the knee over the top of the couch. It opens him up more for Brett’s slow, gentle grinding up against his crotch. “You know? That explains a lot. You’ve got the fancy bed frame.”

“It’s pretty fancy,” Brett agrees, kisses him enough that Trevor’s head leaves the arm of the couch before he continues. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re being unfair,” Trevor replies a bit hazily, head thumping back onto the couch. “I’m all, like, kissed and shit, dude, and then you start asking me about handcuffs? You’re a cheater.”

He gets a bright, incredulous little giggle for that one as Brett shakes his head and kisses the tip of his nose before pulling him up. Trevor goes willingly enough, if only because he’s still feeling that fuzzy happiness in the bottom of his stomach, sends a tingle up his spine as Brett pulls him to his feet.

“C’mon.”

Brett gently leads him into the bedroom and then sits him down, kisses him a couple of times before he rummages around in the bedside table. Trevor watches, admires the view of Brett’s ass in sweats before Brett turns back around and deposits two pairs of handcuffs in his lap. They’re fuzzy like the ones in the video had been, which makes him wrinkle his nose, but they’re black instead of hot pink, and he turns them over in his hands.

“Here,” Brett says, and picks one up. “Look, I know the fuzz is fucking stupid, but real handcuffs actually hurt and these are gonna stop your delicate wrists from chaffing.”

“You sound like Aleks,” Trevor says, nose still scrunched up, but this time as he holds the other pair in his hands it feels… different, in a good way. Being strung up in a different way than he had been in the video, being stretched out and without any control - but still always with control, too - makes him feel… different. Good, sort of, in a way that makes him squirm a bit. “I’m not… _not_ into it.”

“Here,” Brett says again, and Trevor watches as he holds the handcuffs up and then clicks one shut. “They have a safety release...“ He presses a little catch on the metal part of the cuff, and then pulls it open again. That’s… comforting, more than words can say, and Trevor tries it on his own pair, too. “Plus James and Aleks know we’re here, and what we’re doing. So, you know, if I died unexpectedly of a heart attack because of my old age, you won’t be trapped or any shit like that. Totally safe, if you still wanna do it.”

“That’s... really good, actually,” Trevor says quietly, and his cheeks are starting to burn a little. “That makes me feel better about it? Since you’re so old. So. Thanks.”

“Well, I’m not a total asshole,” Brett replies, grinning before his eyes go a little soft. “You said you trusted me, so, you know. Gotta live up to that standard, at least.”

Suddenly embarrassed and thrilled in equal measure, Trevor sniffs once and looks back down at the pair in his hands, turns them over and over. The material of the fuzz is soft, but it’s the _click-click-click_ of the cuff as he slowly pushes it into the double strand that makes him shift a little on the bed. Brett’s watching him quietly, not pushing, not trying to persuade, and that’s really what makes up Trevor’s mind.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “I’m, yeah dude, I’m into it. Let’s try it.”

He gets kissed for that one, Brett’s strong hands on either side of his face keeping him steady while Trevor grips onto his wrists and smiles. He’s not exactly sure what he’s expecting; maybe for them to get right to it, for Brett to just cuff him to the bedpost and have his way with him, but there’s just more kissing, which Trevor’s more than happy with. He’s affectionate by nature, even if he’s pretty private about it, and he likes the feeling of Brett’s lips working against his own as he slowly pushes him down onto his back.

He’s still halfway off the bed, feet flat on the floor, but Brett’s got a knee on the side of one hip, the other leg stretched out to keep him steady until he can cup under Trevor’s arm and scoot him up the mattress. There’s the bulge of muscle that makes Trevor moan a little bit and Brett laughs into his mouth, shakes his head a bit as he starts to arrange Trevor how he wants him. One leg goes up at Brett’s behest, wordless, to wrap around his waist so that Brett can return to grinding his hips slowly against Trevor’s.

For how long that goes on, Trevor has no idea. He gets lost in the warm haze of making out, of Brett’s hands on him, shoving up his shirt over his head and then thumbing at his nipples. He’s sensitive on his chest, shivering into the cold of the room, and as Brett teases them into hardness he lets out a soft little moan, his hips twitching. He’s still got a little bit of softness in his stomach, and Brett feathers the tips of his fingers over that too, over his waist and up his sides and down his chest until Trevor’s twitching and gasping for air.

“Shit,” he breathes, and Brett laughs. “Shit, dude. Fuck.”

“Articulate. Come on, sit up,” Brett says against his cheek, nose smushed again, and Trevor huffs at him before obeying. He pushes himself up with his legs until he’s upright and then Brett maneuvers him back until his back is pressed against the bedpost. Brett’s got one of those simple bed frames with slats, and Trevor curls the fingers of one hand around one of the slats as Brett sits in front of him.

“Green, yellow, red, got it?” he asks, and he sounds serious enough that Trevor only nods, doesn’t make a joke. “Green for go, yellow for _I want to slow down,_ red for stop. You’ve got the safety release, you’ve got me here, you’re totally safe and in control. Right?”

“Right,” Trevor replies, and puffs up a bit happily when Brett smiles proudly at him.

“That’s my boy. Alright.” Trevor hears the click of the cuffs again as Brett presses them shut around the slats first, and then gently takes Trevor’s left hand. The fuzz is still soft when it settles around his wrist, and Brett presses the single strand into the double, tight enough that Trevor can’t slip his hand out but still loose enough that he doesn’t feel trapped. He does the same with Trevor’s right wrist too, and then quite suddenly he’s bound to the bed, and Brett lifts both arms up and down to make sure the handcuffs slide easy.

There’s that brief bit of panic as he realizes that he can only move so far, that he can’t just leave the bed if he wants, but Brett must notice because he moves to soothe it instantly. He lifts Trevor by the thighs until he’s sitting in Brett’s lap, and then Brett kisses him gently enough that the buzz of anxiety settles just a little bit. It’s new and it’s a bit frightening if only because it’s the unknown, but Trevor feels better knowing that he’s taken care of. Brett’s cock is pressing into his ass, and that feels good, too. _He_ made Brett hard, made him feel that way.

Brett kisses the side of his nose, rubbing circles into his thighs.

“What do you want?”

He considers for a moment, wriggles a little bit in Brett’s lap to settle.

“I could blow you?” he says after a moment, and Brett actually lets out a bit of a shuddering little breath, close enough that Trevor can see his pupils diluting. It makes him a little big smug, because he’s the one handcuffed up and yet Brett’s the one that’s being affected by _him._

“Jesus, Trevor,” Brett says quietly. “0 to 60. Okay.”

He stays still as Brett shifts a little bit, pushes Trevor very gently off his lap again and then down by his shoulders until he’s level with Brett’s crotch. He’s close enough that he can smell musk and sweat and it makes his mouth water just a little, makes him lean forward a little until he can press his nose against the dip of Brett’s groin and thigh. It’s not just the thought of giving a blowjob, though that’s certainly a factor, but it’s the fact that even under the guise of dominating him, Trevor’s still the one in control. He’s still the one making someone _else_ feel good, and that makes him more than a bit smug.

A bit of that smugness goes away, though, when he realizes that he can’t _do anything._ He pulls at the handcuffs a little and then pauses, pulls his face away and frowns. He can’t tug Brett’s sweats down, or run his fingers up the inside of his thighs where his muscles are hard and tense, he can’t do anything but _wait._ He looks up and finds that Brett’s gazing down at him with a bit of a smirk on his face.

“Yeah,” Brett says quietly, “starting to figure it out, I see.”

“That’s stupid,” Trevor says immediately. “I wanna touch you. I take it back, I don’t wanna do this anymore.”

Brett chuckles, shaking his head again as he runs his hands through Trevor’s hair, separates it between his fingers and scritches until Trevor’s eyes flutter shut and his lips part. Trevor usually has a modicum of control at all times, if only because he’s more manipulative than anyone really wants to give him credit for, but the only control he has right now is whether or not they continue. It’s weird, to be calling the shots and yet be helpless in equal measure.

He thinks he likes it, somehow.

“Come on, dude,” Trevor whines after a moment, jangles the cuffs a little. “Don’t, like, tease me or whatever.”

Again, Brett laughs a little at him while Trevor wrinkles his nose a bit but he reaches down, hooks his thumbs into the elastic of his sweats. It sets Trevor’s heart to thumping and he sits back a little, watches as Brett tugs them down an inch at a time, reveals the trimmed mess of curls between his legs until his cock’s out. He’s hard and flushed and leaking a bit at the tip, and again Trevor pulls at the cuffs until they jangle impatiently.

They’re past words, it would seem, because instead of gently mocking him some more Brett just strokes himself a couple of times in front of Trevor’s face and then very, very gently threads his fingers back into Trevor’s hair, tilts him forward until the head of his cock is pressed against his lips. Trevor opens up immediately, parts his lips and widens his mouth as Brett slowly presses in.

“Snap if you want to stop,” Brett says in a quiet, forceful voice, and Trevor nods as much as he can before Brett’s shoving further into his mouth. This, Trevor has done before. He’s good at it, because James is a sucker for oral and it makes him writhe on the bed, because he can pin Aleks anywhere and drop down to his knees, because when they all three gang up on Brett it’s the first thing to get him calmed and moaning.

Brett’s cock is heavy on his tongue and Trevor lets his eyes flicker closed, lets Brett hold his head in place as he rocks in and out of his mouth in a slow rhythm that makes him squirm. He’s still got his own pants on and he can’t get any friction, can’t touch himself at all, can’t do anything about it but take it.

Trevor’s not… he’s not necessarily a submissive person when it comes to sex, certainly not the way that James can be when they’ve got him good and loose, but there’s something heady about not being able to do anything but sit there and let Brett fuck his mouth. He pulls at the cuffs again and this time he’s grateful for the padding, because he’s sure it would hurt a lot more if they were just regular old handcuffs. He breathes out hard through his nose and looks up at Brett, sees how Brett is looking down at him, how his breath hitches when they made eye contact.

“Shit, Trev,” Brett says, and his voice is rough, “you look really good like that.”

Unable to help himself, Trevor wiggles his eyebrows a little bit and then swallows.

His reward is that he gets to watch all of Brett’s muscles twitch at once, he gets to watch Brett’s lashes as his eyes flutter closed and he thrusts a little more forcefully into Trevor’s mouth, makes him choke a bit. Brett pulls away immediately, leaves a thin string of saliva and precome hanging between the head of his cock and Trevor’s lips. They’re tingling, his jaw a little sore, but he feels smug and proud as he watches Brett stare at that string before it snaps against Trevor’s chin.

The smugness dies down pretty quickly, though - Brett grabs both of Trevor’s ankles and pulls hard, startles a yelp out of him as he’s yanked onto his back, arms stretched out over his head. After that he’s pulling at Trevor’s pants until they’re at his ankles and he can throw them somewhere into the room.

Trevor has half a second to understand what’s going on before Brett hooks a knee over one of his shoulders and then Trevor goddamn _squeaks_ before he can stop himself.

“ _Brett_ \- “

The first touch of Brett’s mouth against his asshole is a shock, a jolt of pleasure up his spine as he’s almost bent in half so that Brett can eat him out properly, and Trevor gasps and shakes. He still can’t do anything but _take it_ as Brett presses the flat of his tongue against his entrance and then rims him slowly, traces at his hole in little circles over and over until Trevor’s gasping, squirming as best he can and pulling at the cuffs. It’s - it’s hot, to be so limited in his motions and his actions, to be unable to do anything for himself, to be entirely at Brett’s mercy to do as he pleases with Trevor’s body.

“Holy shit,” Trevor breathes, back arching a little before Brett growls into his skin and wraps an arm around Trevor’s thigh, digs his fingers in hard enough to bruise, “holy shit, holy shit, holy shit - “

When Brett spears his tongue into him, Trevor’s vision goes black for a second and he moans, cranes his neck back and can’t _move,_ not between the handcuffs and Brett’s strong arms holding him in place. He can feel sweat beading along his hairline, can hear the wet noises Brett’s making between his cheeks as he eats him out over the sound of his own desperate panting. His fingers curl uselessly, in some kind of weak attempt to hold on to something as his cock drips slowly down onto his own stomach.

Brett presses a thumb against him, then, and Trevor moans sharply, manages to pry his eyes open enough to see that Brett’s staring up at him from between his legs. His eyes are dark, dangerous almost, and he doesn’t let up, switches from his thumb to his index finger as it slowly presses inside of him.

There’s only spit to guide the way and it stings a little, stings because Brett has thick fingers and he knows what to do with them. A muscle twitches in Trevor’s leg and he groans at the slow penetration, turns his face into his own shoulder and just breathes. It’s difficult, because his stomach is tight with arousal and he can’t do anything, fuck, his fingers find the chain connecting the one cuff to the other that’s locked around the slats of the bedpost. He arches his back as much as he can, head going back into the pillows as Brett works him up until his cock’s pushing out another line of precome that slides all the way into the mess already there.

Finally, when he’s slowly pressed his finger in and out a couple of times, Brett pulls away, rests his cheek on the inside of Trevor’s thigh as they both just breathe.

“You okay?” he asks, and his voice is so hoarse that Trevor swears he almost comes right then and there. “Color?”

“Green,” Trevor breathes immediately, lips dragging against the skin of his shoulder as he looks down his own body at Brett again. “So green, dude, grass green, like, like emerald green.”

“You wanna grab the lube?” Brett says smugly, and Trevor can feel the grin against his thigh. “Oh, wait. Guess you can’t.”

Trevor glares at him as Brett just laughs and then crawls up his body, presses a quick little kiss to his forehead before he reaches out to get back into the bedside drawer. He’s hot all over, dripping with sweat and his weight on Trevor’s chest is comforting and heavy, makes him close his eyes and just breathe again. He tests the cuffs again just once, but they’re as sturdy as ever.

The tempting part, though, is that Brett’s ass is just close enough to his cock, enough so that Trevor plants his feet and then starts to carefully lift his hips. Brett pauses when he realizes what he’s doing, but as Trevor’s cock slips just briefly between his ass he just closes his eyes and takes a breath to settle before he finds the lube and sits back again.

Trevor frowns at him, tilts his hips again in a wordless demand that gets Brett to laugh.

“Do something about it,” he says, smug and domineering.

And the thing is, he _could._ Trevor could just manage to use the safety latch and do whatever he wants, he could slip out of the cuffs if he truly wanted to, if he really wanted to stop. That’s the point of it, though. He’s still locked up, and Brett’s still looking at him with that dare in his eyes, like he wants to see what Trevor’s going to do. It reminds Trevor of when they had been at the warehouse that first time, when Trevor’s hands had been behind himself and Brett had just looked down at him with that knowing gaze.

Slowly, Trevor swallows and then settles back down on the mattress. Brett pats his thigh a few times proudly, and then lifts that same leg back onto his shoulder and dives right back in. As soon as his mouth is back on Trevor’s hole he’s gasping again, soft little noises as he turns his face into the pillow and breathes a wet patch there.

When Brett slips his finger back inside it’s slick with lube, practically dripping, and Trevor impatiently hooks his other leg over Brett’s free shoulder.

“Come on, Brett,” he says, pulls on the cuffs, “I’m not, like, delicate, you know? Come on.”

Again, Brett laughs, shaking his head before he takes his finger out and then sinks two in with absolutely zero warning. It must get the desired effect - Trevor gasps sharply and then twitches hard, one full-body spasm that tenses every muscle in his body as Brett starts to thrust them in and out. Part of him wants Brett’s mouth back on him but the rest is already tight with anticipation of what’s to come; Brett knows his body well, and when his fingertips brush against Trevor’s prostate he actually _yells._

“ _Fuck!_ ”

“Oh,” Brett says, like he’s surprised, and rubs hard circles against it until Trevor’s trembling, “what’s that?”

“Nngh,” is Trevor’s response, more precome sliding down his dick. It’s been woefully neglected, because he can’t touch himself and Brett hasn’t gone anywhere near it, and as Trevor looks down himself again through hazy eyes he can see how Brett’s watching him again. He sees the sharp grin a second before he realizes what it means and then Brett’s merciless, rubbing at Trevor’s prostate until his entire body is taut with pleasure and his mouth is stretched open in a silent scream, neck arched back.

He’s staring at the wall but it’s without any real cognizance; all he can do is _feel._ It’s overwhelming, pleasure rippling through every muscle like fire and ice equally, and by the time Brett lets up he’s gasping and sobbing a little, cursing the whole time.

“Fuck, shit, fuck - “ he breathes, still shaking hard. Brett’s watching him with a different look in his eyes now, and Trevor shakes his head. “No, green, it’s green.”

He can see the proud little smile before Brett sinks three fingers into him this time, and between the burn and the abuse of his prostate it isn’t long before Trevor’s gasping again, fingers and toes curling uselessly, but he can’t _come._ They haven’t been able to work him up to coming without stimulation on his dick - not for lack of trying, at least - and Brett knows that and he’s _flaunting_ it. Trevor tries to squirm and press his thighs together, just to get something, _anything,_ but Brett’s not having it. He just shoulders Trevor’s thighs open, keeps him spread out and unable to get any stimulation on his dick.

“You’ve got to ask, Trevor,” he says calmly, despite the flush in his cheeks and the gravel in his tone. “What do you want?”

Trevor wheezes a bit, shakes his head angrily and pulls at the cuffs. He wants a goddamn hand on his dick, that’s what he wants. A second later his vision goes white as Brett presses all three fingers _hard_ into his prostate, rubs until Trevor’s spasming around them and he can’t breathe, can’t do anything but endure the onslaught of pleasure that’s so vibrant and hot that it’s almost painful.

When Brett lets up again Trevor really does let out a sob, entire body going limp like a marionette with its strings cut.

“Trevor,” Brett says warningly. “Don’t be a brat. What do you want?”

Trevor sighs hard, tears in his eyes from it being _too much_ and his legs still hooked over Brett’s shoulders. He doesn’t _know_ , he doesn’t know what he wants. On one hand he wants to be fucked, wants Brett’s powerful hips pistoning into him until he can’t goddamn see or walk straight for a week, but on the other hand that won’t get him an immediate orgasm, and he wants to come so badly that it hurts a little.

When he doesn’t answer, Brett returns to rubbing at him and this time Trevor finds his voice, loud and shaky and thin. He’s not necessarily used to being in this position, this level of helplessness; there’s always something that he can do to turn the tides in his favor, but with his arms strung up over his head and his legs over Brett’s shoulders, he’s goddamn useless. He’s got no control over his own body.

“No, nononono, stop, come on, stop,” he pleads, writhing because it’s still _too much_ , “come on, man, I-I don’t know, I don’t know!”

“You don’t know what you want?”

“Yes, no, I don’t - I don’t know, man!”

Brett sighs, like he’s impatient, still knuckle-deep in Trevor’s ass.

“Do you want to come?” he pushes, and Trevor nods frantically, digs his heel in between Brett’s shoulderblades to try and bring him closer. His shoulders are starting to ache, just a little bit now, but he doesn’t want to say so, wants Brett to bring him to a goddamn orgasm before he fucking dies on the spot. “Use your words, Trev.”

“Oh my god,” Trevor says, just short of a whine. “I want to come, Brett, _please!_ There, okay, I said it, I used my words, come _on -_ “

Brett’s lips twist thoughtfully as he just slowly moves his fingers in and out until Trevor feels like he’s going insane. It almost hurts when he spreads them slowly, stretches out Trevor’s rim until he’s gritting his teeth against it. His cock’s still laying on his belly, entirely neglected, and he’s almost angry, mostly just _frustrated_ and so turned on he can barely breathe. Goddamnit.

“You weren’t very polite about it,” Brett says, nose scrunched up, and for one brief second Trevor finally understands where James is coming from, just a little, because he wants to _shriek_ just to get his point across. Brett’s still got that smugass look in his eyes, like he knows how frustrated he’s making him, and if it weren’t for the deep flush in his cheeks Trevor wouldn’t think he was hard at all. “You think you deserve it?”

“I hate this,” Trevor breathes, not really meaning it, and he knows that Brett can tell he doesn’t really mean it. “Yes, I deserve it for putting up with _this._ ” He jangles the handcuffs for emphasis, and Brett rolls his eyes and spreads his fingers again until Trevor’s chest is heaving.

“Let’s see what we can do,” he mutters, and Trevor has half a second to brace himself before Brett’s attacking his prostate again with evil accuracy. He rubs in sharp little circles until Trevor’s rolling his hips to get away, such powerful sparks of pleasure tearing through him that Trevor’s sure he’s about to burst into tears. It’s just the side of too much to handle, and it starts to crest in a way it never has before.

“Oh,” he breathes, recognizing it for what it is, “oh, oh no, oh no, Brett, fuck, fuckfuck, oh no - “

He’s there, he’s _there,_ the wave about to crash down on him when -

Brett abruptly pulls his fingers out, and this time Trevor absolutely _does_ shriek.

“What the fuck!” When he looks down, Brett’s got a shit-eating grin on his face. “I was about to come, what the fuck! Brett!”

“Oh, were you?” Brett asks innocently, eyes wide as Trevor trembles and heaves and the feeling recedes. His cock is flushed so dark it’s near purple, just gently leaking precome nonstop into the curls at the base. He’s made a goddamn mess, and Brett won’t let him come, and his arms are starting to shake a little from the cuffs now. Brett’s pulled him down far enough that he’s stretched out, all his long limbs starfished out and leaving him spread open for Brett to see.

Trevor thumps his head a couple of times against the pillow, whatever pride that had been left just flying right out the window.

“Come on, please,” he begs, twists his hips, “please, man, Brett, I’ve been good, right?”

“You’ve been a brat,” Brett corrects calmly, and pushes his fingers back in until he’s knuckle deep. “But you’ve listened, for the most part.”

“Can I come?”

“I never said you couldn’t.”

“Actions speak louder than words!” Trevor tries to fold himself in half, and Brett starts laughing at him like an asshole but Trevor doesn’t even care. “Touch my dick or, or fuck, something, please, I’m asking, _please,_ dude!”

Brett’s still chuckling as he leans up, runs his clean hand through Trevor’s hair and then tightens it into a fist, pulls Trevor’s head up just a little bit as he shifts. It takes some creative maneuvering but then Trevor can feel the blunt head of Brett’s cock against his hole, and it’s wet with lube from Brett’s fingers and from the mess of precome smeared there, too. Trevor breathes through the little pinpricks of pain from having his hair pulled.

“Okay,” Brett says, like he’s being kind, “you can come, Trev.”

All of his breath whooshes out of him in a desperate, grateful sigh and he wriggles, forces himself up as much as he can until Brett’s bent him in half and started to push in slowly. It’s a gradual breach, because Trevor does tend to be on the giving side of things overall and he knows for all his confidence that Brett would rather chop his own dick off than actually hurt one of them by accident. He just breathes out as slowly as he can and feels his body taking it, legs in the air and hands wrenching uselessly at the cuffs as slowly, slowly Brett presses up into him.

He can feel when Brett’s inside all the way, but even if he couldn’t he would know because Brett’s hands cup his face and Brett kisses him deep, rocks into him slowly. His hands are shaking a bit, too.

“Good boy,” Brett breathes, sounding so proud that Trevor glows with it. “You’re doing so good, Trev.”

“Oh, well, uh, you know me. I try my best,” Trevor says in a thin voice, and then grunts and whines when Brett slowly pulls out and then pushes back in. It’s still so frustrating, because he’s not _there,_ he’s not at a place where getting fucked alone is going to get him off, but he can’t just touch himself to make it happen. He has to ask, and there’s a burning humiliation to it that he wasn’t expecting. “Do you think, um, you could lend a hand?”

Brett’s forehead is fever-hot when it drops down onto Trevor’s shoulder as he laughs a bit breathlessly.

“Maybe,” is his answer, and he thrusts again, a little harder, a little faster. “We’ll see.”

It’s a push and pull that both of them know. As Brett picks up the pace, little by little, Trevor starts to rock his hips into the motion and the rhythm of it. There’s not much else he can do; he has very little leverage, with the way he’s bent in half and how his arms are still above him, but he makes do. They move together until they’ve found the best angle, until Brett finds Trevor’s prostate again and then he’s fucking hard against it, their skin slapping together in the thick air of Brett’s bedroom.

Trevor wishes it were enough, because it’s pleasure that borders on painful, on frustration; he wants to get that feeling back when he almost came, but Brett’s fingers were far more precise that his dick is, and all Trevor can do is take it and breathe out desperate noises, trying to angle himself and get something on his dick. Every press into him punches out another whimper, another grunt and moan, until they’re breathing in the same tandem as their bodies’ motions, as Trevor just opens up underneath Brett.

And that - that’s hot. He’s spread wide, helpless, Brett between his legs with one hand next to Trevor’s head and the other one cupped behind his knee to keep him bent. That’s hotter than he was ever expecting it to be, and through the tightness in his throat and the arousal pulsing between his legs and his shoulders aching just on this side of pleasant, Trevor just - lets go. He lets himself get lost in it, Brett’s cock in his ass and every part of him dripping sweat and his cock so hard he swears he could die. With every thrust in, the top of Trevor’s thigh almost brushes against him, and he wants to goddamn cry in desperation. He just wants to touch himself, he just wants Brett to touch him -

The hand near his head shifts, cups Trevor’s cheek in a warm embrace as he opens eyes he doesn’t remember closing and finds that Brett’s heated gaze is solely on him, flicking back and forth as they just stare at each other.

“Good?” Brett asks, quiet and intense, and Trevor nods. He’s far past words at this point, he just wants to _come._ He wriggles a little, finds his voice again.

“Please?”

Brett’s eyes close again as he groans, a deep sound like a growl before he shifts them, goes down on his elbow so he can finally, finally take Trevor’s dick in his free hand. Trevor nearly cries as at last, at _last_ he has some stimulation. Brett’s still fucking into him, but now he’s jerking him off too and every single muscle in Trevor’s body tenses as he trembles and gasps and whines.

“Go on, sweetheart,” Brett says into his ear, hot and wet and thick with arousal, “go on, you did good, come for me.”

“Oh, fuck - “ Trevor’s chest tightens as the crest returns, harder than before, faster and with a power that he can tell is going to leave him wrung out to dry. His cock twitches in Brett’s fist and then the wave crashes down on him all at once, overwhelming and raw. “I’m coming, I’m coming, fuck, fuck, Brett - “

The first pulse of his dick leaves him breathless as Brett jerks him off, and then his orgasm hits him full force with the velocity of a goddamn train. It feels like it’s never going to end, courses through his veins in a thick, fiery burning pulse like a shockwave, crashes through him until he can’t breathe past his repeated gasps of, “I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming - “

His words are cut short into one last high gasp before he goes silent as the orgasm continues, spurts come up onto his stomach, once, twice, three more times. His mouth is open wide but he can’t make any noise, can only shake and tense and take it as Brett keeps fucking him, rides him up the bed just a little bit. It’s like he has no control of himself again, can only bear down and take it.

Slowly, blessedly, the pulses fade into gentle, tingling little jerks of his muscles, and Trevor’s left in the aftermath of what was probably one of the best orgasms of his entire goddamn life. Brett’s still inside of him but he’s slowed down, just jerks him off slowly enough that Trevor twitches weakly and tries to get away from it. Overstimulation is touch and go for him, and right now as much as he’d love to continue he just - he can’t.

Still, Brett manages to gently work one last weak little spurt of come out of his dick and then he rotates his hips a little, leans down to kiss Trevor deeply. Trevor barely has the strength to respond, just opens up his mouth to Brett’s tongue and tries to get his breath back as Brett works counterproductively to steal it all away again.

“How was that?” Brett asks, when he’s had his fill of kissing Trevor for the time being, and Trevor blinks blearily up at him.

“How was what,” he croaks, and Brett laughs a little and runs his hand through Trevor’s sweaty hair.

“I can already tell you’re not going to be in any kind of mood for cleaning up,” he says, and as much as Trevor wants to argue… yeah, no. He wants to chastise Brett just a little because that’s part of what condoms are for, goddamnit, he wants to feel Brett come inside of him but without all the stupid clean-up that comes after. He sniffs, maybe a bit delicately, and shakes his head.

Brett kisses his forehead and, with a wince, slowly pulls out. It makes a slick sound that almost, almost stirs Trevor’s dick up again, makes him feel too empty, but then Brett’s started to jerk himself off over Trevor’s stomach and he has an idea.

He thrusts his hips up to get Brett’s attention, and when Brett’s opened his eyes and focused on Trevor’s face, Trevor just silently opens his mouth.

Brett swears out loud.

“You’re going to fucking kill me,” he hisses, and shifts up the bed until he’s crouched over Trevor’s chest, fucking his fist right over Trevor’s face. Trevor just sticks his tongue out a little bit in what he knows is a cunning, mean little move. It makes him feel… desirable, his own come on his belly and his hands strung up and his entire body still jolting here and there with aftershocks even now.

The tongue is what does it, though; Brett growls loudly and freezes, comes right then and there. It lands mostly against Trevor’s tongue, but one or two stripe up his cheek instead and he swallows, blinks tiredly up at Brett as Brett just breathes, dick still in hand and eyebrows pinched together before he finally looks down at Trevor again. Slowly he reaches down and swipes his thumb against one of the lines of come on Trevor’s check, holds it up to Trevor’s bottom lip until he sniffs and then takes it into his mouth, licks Brett’s come off the pad of his thumb with his eyes locked with Brett’s the entire time.

“Not a bad date night,” Brett says a bit hoarsely, a bit of a grin of his face.

Trevor nods, exhausted but pleased.

“Not bad at all.”

The very first thing Brett does is lean forward and kiss his hairline; it’s tender, and loving, and it settles Trevor’s tired nerves a little. The next he does is slowly slide off the bed, grab the keys from the side table and unlock the handcuffs. Trevor lets him just slowly rotate his shoulders, aching and sore, and then as soon as Trevor’s settled he disappears off into the bathroom to grab warm, wet towels.

Brett cleans him off easily, tosses the towels into the hamper and then starts to kiss Trevor within a damn inch of his life, little pecks against his lips and then deeper ones as he tells him quietly how good he is, how proud Brett is of him, until Trevor’s damn near glowing. It’s only once he’s settled under the covers, naked and warm and very, very pleased, with Brett pressed up against his back that Brett reaches out to grab his phone as it rings.

“Ah, of course,” he says, and taps with his thumb. Trevor watches curiously, and it’s only when he hears the familiar crone of Facetime opening and then two faces squished into one frame that he gets it and grins, eyes already half closed.

“Holy shit,” Aleks says, sounding awed.

“Oh my god, you fucking killed him,” James cuts in immediately, squinting at them through the camera. “You fucking dicked Trevor to death, Brett, what the fuck. We need him!”

“I never claimed I was going to do otherwise,” Brett replies sagely, one strong arm coming around Trevor’s waist to pull him in close. Trevor’s usually the big spoon just because he’s taller, but this will do very nicely. He burrows his face into the pillows as Brett continues. “Anyway, the experiment went well, and if I do say so myself, I would consider it a rousing success.”

“Good,” Aleks replies, sounding delighted. “‘cause I’m definitely borrowing them next as long as they’re, like, clean and shit.”

“For _what_?” James demands immediately, and Trevor can see the outraged flush of his cheeks. “Aleksandr, if you think those fucking things are going on my wrists - “

“Goodnight, boys,” Brett says loudly, laughing.

“Goodnight,” they both say, and then go back to arguing as the feed cuts out once Brett hangs up. After that his phone is back on the bedside table and then Trevor’s being cuddled properly, enough so that it almost puts him right to sleep.

“Hey,” Brett says quietly, tangling their legs together, “that was good? You feel good?”

Trevor sighs happily, nearly asleep, but he shakes his head. He can feel Brett tensing up a little bit, concerned, and so he hurries to clarify.

“It was good, it’s just…”

“Just what?”

Trevor yawns, rests his hands over Brett’s clasped against his stomach.

“We can’t use handcuffs in videos anymore,” he says, eyes closing. “‘cause, dude, I will definitely pop a boner again. Just, uh, like as a warning, that will definitely happen.”

It takes a second, but then he feels Brett laughing again behind him as he pulls him a little closer.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, and even half-asleep Trevor can hear the evil in it.

Work is about to be so much more difficult to deal with, but right now he’s just too damn tired to care.

Could be worse, he supposes. Could've been vibrators.


End file.
